Archdruid: The last of the summer rays falls on the grateful earth
All: Sorry, Eileen? It's pouring with rain.
Archdruid: And the earth revels in the last warmth of summer.
All: Eileen, can we chuck another pallet on the fire? It's freezing.
Archdruid: Let us bask in the sun and rejoice while we may! Gather ye rosebuds and eat of the fruit of the land!
All: The tomatoes are months behind. The rosebuds all rotted in the rain. And the hottest summer in history, as predicted by the Daily Express (yet again), and even the Telegraph, has been a washout.
Archdruid: Then let us take one last summer dance on the blessed grass!
All: Lower Meadow is under water. The floor in the Orchard is covered in fungus. There's nowhere safe to dance.
Archdruid: What about the tennis court?
All: Covered in moss. It's terrifying.
Archdruid: Then let us cower under cover, sing our songs of woe, light up the wood-burner, throw chair legs on the fire and lament the total wash out that the summer has been. OK, Kirsty - take it away.....